


Forged

by DuaeCat



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-22
Updated: 2017-02-22
Packaged: 2018-09-26 04:34:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9862820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DuaeCat/pseuds/DuaeCat
Summary: "War is in your blood. I studied the art of war, worked to perfect it, but you? You were forged by it."Cassian recruits Hera Syndulla to the rebellion.





	

Fulcrum Cassian. He’s just a teen, tough as nails and still figuring out this whole leader/spy thing when he meets a teenage twi’lek in dirty flight clothes. And she hates and misses her father, and she misses her mother, and she hates the Empire, and they have a lot in common really. She’s scraping by with odd jobs but he can see she’s got the sort of magic with anything that can fly that only comes when you have that rare trio of talent and passion and durasteel determination to keep practicing past the point others would consider it insanity. 

And maybe Cassian is a little insane himself because there’s a race coming up and he tells her she should enter. He tells her she should put up her battered old astromech for the entry fee and she punches him in the face. Later when his cheekbone stops throbbing he tells her a face punch hurts you just as much and it’s better to go for the gut. She takes the advice with the same sort of practicality they both understand too well and it’s not friendship but it’s something. 

When she scrapes up the entry fee somehow he takes one look at the odds against her and puts credits on her, a lot of credits. Maybe he’ll be chewed out and demoted but he can look into hard green eyes and see the same sort of… something that’s helped him win in worse odds.

She wins, of course, and the winner’s prize is enough to keep her in fuel for a while, maybe let her be a little pickier about the jobs she takes. To maybe breathe and rest and start fighting instead of just surviving. Or maybe… 

“Here. Your half of the credits you made me.” He presses them on her and she tries to refuse. Credits like these always come with strings, but it’s enough to keep her comfortable for a long time. Or to trade in her old junker of a ship and astromech for one of the new light freighters for sale in the shipyard. 

She trades in the junker, but not the astromech. 

 When everything’s all signed for he shakes her hand. 

“Congratulations Captain, I’m Fulcrum.” And with the way her eyes narrow just a bit she maybe knows how new the title is in his mouth. He doesn’t care, they both know she’s not going to pass this up. 

 

* * *

 

He doesn’t stay her Fulcrum of course, he passes her off to someone with more experience with something like disappointed relief and he keeps fighting and lying and doing what he does best. He never asks. The cells are all called by their codes and he never asks if behind one of those code names is a twi’lek who flies like she was born to. It’s easier that way, it always is. 

The first time he hears the words General Syndulla his first thought is that somehow they managed to pry that old clone war veteran off his planet. Then he sees green eyes as hard as gemstone and he stands a little straighter. 

It doesn’t come close to balancing his scale, not with everything he’s done. But sometimes it makes it a little easier to carry the weight. 

And then maybe the next time he meets someone with hard eyes, who misses her father and mother and hates the Empire and believes she can do something about it, he’s willing to stay beside her. 


End file.
